


Handcrafted in Konoha

by Kita_the_Spaz



Category: Naruto
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi discovers Konoha has more secrets than even he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handcrafted in Konoha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm blaming this ficlet entirely on my friend [unjaundiced](http://unjaundiced.livejournal.com/) and a conversation she and I had.

They met in the foyer of the apartment building, Kakashi waiting out the rain after delivering a scroll to another jounin who lived in this block, and Iruka, arms full of paperwork, stumbling in, propelled by a fierce gust of wind. Kakashi had wound up with an armful of dripping chuunin.

Iruka, blushing and apologizing, had insisted Kakashi come up to his apartment for a drink and to dry off. His strong-arm tactics had been impossible to resist. So Kakashi found himself in the cozy little apartment of Naruto's favorite teacher, holding a towel and looking around with interest while Iruka bustled around in the kitchen. He was taking note of the mementos and photograph cluttering every available surface when something on the mantel made his blood freeze in his veins.

Kakashi stared aghast at the damning thing sitting there innocently, wedged between a photo of Naruto surrounded by cheering genin and a old book. It was mocking him.

Iruka returned, bearing a tray with tea and small rice-flour sweets. "Kakashi?"

Kakashi didn't answer, too stunned by the presence of that _thing_ to make any attempt at reply.

Iruka came up to his shoulder, and fixed his gaze on the shelf. His face softened and he smiled widely.

"Naruto brought that figure and photo to me the day after he came back from training with Jiraiya," Iruka murmured, setting the tea-tray down on the table. "He found it in one of those little tourist trap shops in Ofuku Gai and thought I might like it."

Kakashi had to take a moment to process those words. "He found _that_ for sale in a tourist-trap?" He repeated dumbly.

Iruka looked irritated, his brows drawn down and the scar across his nose crinkled a little where his nostrils flared with an aggrieved huff. "That is what I just said, Kakashi-san."

Kakashi reached out to take the figure, but Iruka snatched it and glared at him. He cradled the damned thing like it was something precious and glared irately at Kakashi. "What the hell is wrong with you?”

Kakashi clenched his reaching fingers into a fist. “I am going to fucking kill that damned hag!”

Iruka’s expression of irritation melted into mild befuddlement. “Kakashi-san, what?”

Kakashi shuddered and closed his eyes so he could not longer see the damned thing mocking him from Iruka’s hands.

“Tsunade,” he said tonelessly. ”When ANBU... when we come back — _broken_ — from missions, we’re not always capable of finding harmless outlets for... everything. All that aggression, rage, fear that a bad mission can create; we’re ticking time bombs. Those who can’t find an outlet, the ones who don’t have lovers, friends or other safe ways of coping... the _Hag_ puts them in therapy. In a safe environment where all that pent-up violence can be harmlessly redirected. Sculpting is one of the more common methods, where the clay can be punched, mangled and otherwise abused without harm to the clay or the person. Dull tools are permitted, but even the finished pieces weren’t kept around because we — _they_ might break them and use the broken pieces as weapons.”

Iruka looked at the small sculpture in his hands and back at Kakashi, comprehension dawning. “You mean to tell me...” His voice trailed off and suddenly he burst into great, rollicking guffaws of laughter. Iruka chortled until tears gathered in his eyes, barely able to catch his breath before going off into another gale of laughter. 

Kakashi gritted his teeth. It was not that damned funny.

Finally Iruka managed to straighten up, but his cheeks were still stained bright red with laughter and stretched over the biggest grin Kakashi had ever seen the chuunin wear.

“Crafty old woman,” he chuckled, cradling the damned sculpture close to his face to regard it with bright, merrily sparkling eyes.

Kakashi tried to take the figure from Iruka but Iruka pulled it away. “Oh, no. I’m keeping this one. It’s mine now.” Iruka chuckled.

“I fail to see the amusement in this,” Kakashi growled.

Iruka turned the tiny sculpture of a playful dog over, displaying the tiny seal affixed to the bottom that asserted the piece was proudly handcrafted in Konoha. “Trust the crafty old bitch to find a way to turn a profit out of saving her shinobi’s sanity.”


End file.
